"Babe," he rasps, "I wasn't blowing anyone after you. You were it, even if I didn't remember." God, his voice is fucking shot.

It's worth it, to see all those shifting expressions as they ripple over Armand's face.

He's already down on his knees, throat raw and face slick with god knows how many fluids, so he doesn't think he can make himself anymore vulnerable as he pushes out a question. "Hold me?"